I don’t have a bucket list. At my age, my singular outdoor objective is longevity. If I had a bucket list, the Grand Cascapedia River on the Gaspe Peninsula in eastern Quebec would be on it.
On several occasions while driving along the beautiful river that flows east out of the Chic Choc Mountains on my way to winter skiing and mountaineering adventures, I speculated about the possibility of paddling it.
In 2011, a group of us passed the Cascapedia at high water en route to a Bonaventure River expedition, which parallels it. Although the Bonaventure is more renowned, the extremely scenic mountain river looked majestic and exciting.
For several years, I’ve paddled many of Maine’s northern rivers in May with a group of friends. The supply of appealing in-state rivers nearly exhausted, we needed to expand our horizons.
The Cascapedia came to mind. Actually, to be precise, it came to my mind.
The Cascapedia is one of the most famous salmon fishing rivers in the world. But it’s very difficult to find information about paddling it. After quite a bit of research, I stumbled onto an indication that an old paddling friend, Andy Abello, was a veteran of a Cascapedia River expedition.
Contact with Andy was very productive. Not only had he paddled the Cascapedia, but also wanted to join me on a trip.
Andy lavished praise on the Grand Cascapedia, calling it an exceptional tripping experience. He provided topographical maps of the entire itinerary, and shared information on a campground at the mouth of the river in New Richmond that would run a shuttle.
I found a website that measured the Grand Cascapedia water level and provided a record of flow. Late May and early June were when the historic peak levels occurred.
Based on the Bonaventure endeavor, I concluded that might be before the evil blackflies arrive.
Four of the usual suspects wanted to participate. We began monitoring water levels and weather. What appeared to be an optimum combination of the two was identified in late May. A trip was on.
Unfortunately, Andy was unable to join us. We were disappointed to lose his companionship and knowledge. But we had paddled unknown rivers before and Andy had provided a wealth of information to us.
Five of us met at a motel in New Richmond after a rainy eight-hour drive. We immediately drove to Camping New Richmond Campground to meet with the owner and our shuttle driver, Bruno.
The very likable “can do” guy encouragingly reported that the river was high and blackflies doubtful. We loaded our boats on his trailer in anticipation of an early departure the next morning.
Doing business with Bruno had additional benefits. Paddlers could take off the river at the campground and vehicles were secure during the voyage.
The 60-mile drive along the Cascapedia and deep into the eastern Chic Choc Mountains to remote Lac Huard is nothing short of spectacular. Bruno entertained us with a bevy of amusing river tales during the journey. On a somber note, I began feeling mildly ill.
The one-mile paddle across the picturesque mountain tarn under partly sunny skies was quickly accomplished. We entered a fast-moving stream called Branch Cascapedia where we encountered several easy rapids. A couple of sizable tributaries soon joined, forming Grand Cascapedia.
A strong tailwind pushed us along at a very brisk pace. In fact, we were moving so fast, I had difficulty identifying our location on the topo maps. The rapids increased in length, frequency and complexity, but were otherwise very stimulating and manageable.
The rugged beauty of the area was truly remarkable. Eagles were plentiful and signs of wildlife abundant. The miles quickly passed and late afternoon was almost unexpected when it arrived.
Since the winds had increased in strength, we sought a forested campsite that provided protection from the gale. An excellent location was located in a stand of hardwoods and alders on the north side of an extensive gravel beach.
Settling in for the evening, we contemplated the coming days. The word “falls” was written in a section of the river on the next topo map, so we needed to be on the alert for that unknown eventuality.
I was feeling worse.
My book, Maine Al Fresco: The Fifty Finest Outdoor Adventures in Maine narrates more whitewater exploits on the six best river expeditions in Maine.
